Chopin's Nocturn
by SnapeBlossom
Summary: AU Lily and Severus . Lily regrets her attitude towards Sev and invites him to their old haunt... Set one year after graduation.
1. Chapter 1

Chopin's Nocturns

Disclaimer: Ownership shouldn't exist…but it does; just not for me.

Summary: AU Lily and Severus one-shot (perhaps). Lily regrets her attitude towards Sev and invites him to their old haunt…set one year after graduation.

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"I waited for you today…but you didn't show," I whispered into the darkness. "Why…?" I must have looked a state – eighteen, curled up in bed, crying – repeating his name…a bad case of teenage infatuation would be any bystanders immediate conclusion.

But this pain…how could anyone dare suggest it was simple infatuation? I had known him my whole life. It was so much more than fluctuating limerence – this pain was too terrible to endure.

I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling.

A year had passed since graduation – of course I had expected things would change…and I hated it. I loved the clique I was in; I had a supportive boyfriend, James and Hogwarts was my life. I would embark on an amazing journey and rediscover myself…the thorn in my side was my best friend. Severus Snape.

Throughout my gap year journeys, across mountains to see giants, to Bulgaria to meet a very famous wandmaker (Gregorovitch), to odd, dark corners in Albania where rumours involving 'pure evil' shuttled about…I returned more confused than when I had set off. I returned alone.

It was in our final year at Hogwarts that I started noticing things were becoming strained between Severus and myself. My best friend…slowly drifting away…becoming more and more withdrawn. It was that terrible flaw in my character that I made it about _me_. Stupid, stupid self-absorption…suddenly his silence was because of _me_, his isolation, his odd comments about death, about the dark arts – all because of _me_.

Of course, in my ignorance, I got angry. I decided to confront him, alone, as we walked across the grounds one blustery day. He would not respond.

"Why?" He had asked me, something of the old Severus making him curious.

"Because you've changed! You've become…_weird_."

"You mean an… 'odd-ball'?" He used James' word for it.

"You know what I mean! How can you deny you've stopped talking? I've tried to put up with it but…"

"Stop…shrieking," He had closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, and I fumingly obliged, eager to finally have some answers. "Has it not occurred to you to ask me…how I am?" I was stunned into silence.

"What? I ask you how you are all the time! How can you…?"

"No. I meant ask me _for real_. Not from the force of habit, not to seem more…_caring_ in front your dear Potter," Scorn highlighted every word, "I mean ask me truly…"

"How dare you! I…"

"When was the last time we've been alone to talk?" He interrupted. "Or the last time we've spoken about a subject other than schoolwork or dissecting Potter's frankly _detestable_ personality?" I opened my mouth and closed it – I couldn't remember…guilt fanned the fires of my rage.

"You are unbelievable! I think James is right about you – he's been right all along! You're just another slimy Slytherin waiting to curse us all to the ground! You're just _jealous_ – I can't believe I didn't see that before!" I waited for his retort. We had stopped walking and were facing each other – I had never seen him look so outraged. But then, slowly, his breathing evened out…he turned towards the forest, towards the heavy purple-black clouds above, and smiled.

I had never seen him smile like that; usually it was a sarcastic sneer, an insolent, somewhat ironic twitch of his lips…this smile…it was sad. And his eyes, watching the forest…when had they become so haunted looking, so distant…when had they lost their intensity, to look so pained…?

"Did you know Lily," He said softly, in a raw, unfamiliar voice, "that six months ago my mother died? She's been ill for some time now. It was a harsh lesson to learn, you know – that there are some wounds that even magic won't heal," He suddenly pressed his hand to his heart and – without glancing at me – he walked away.

The ominous clouds above rumbled…raindrops began to fall…I couldn't move. I realised what I had done. I had become what I had always scorned…a typical Gryffindor. Belligerent, gregarious, unfeeling, arrogant…I suddenly understood myself with a clarity that shook me. All those months - I had been pushing him away, he, the symbol of my better self and solemn reminder of what I once was.

But somewhere along the line Severus had become my past; I had tried to become more like James – less introspection, less thought – more fun, fun, fun…every time I felt I was being shallow (laughing at James' pranks, chatting about inane, thoughtless things) especially in front of Severus, I had excused myself mentally, thinking I was being _young_, less "serious".

Perhaps all these thoughts come with hindsight – perhaps what I really thought, as I stood there, alone, the rain soaking me through, was how much Severus meant to me…and how I had never expected him to leave me. My constant, serious, brilliant companion – how could he just…go? I meant too much to him, surely…

And this was my error. My mistake; the arrogance – I smiled through my tears – the stupid, obvious _arrogance_, to make me think I was worth enough to him for him to forgive my mistakes, my flaws…surely he would come back to me, surely he would take the first steps to reconciliation…

He never spoke to me after that; I saw him in the Great Hall at meals, in the few lessons we shared and then in exams. He spoke to few – Sirius' little brother, sometimes Malfoy…and became more and more withdrawn.

After graduation he vanished. I admit it now – I was too ashamed to try and find him…two months after graduation I broke up with James. I told him we needed space – that we should travel, see the world before committing to each other. He had agreed, with a grin – he'd been thinking the same thing apparently.

And I…hated him for it.

And yet, to my utter surprise, I couldn't care less about a future relationship with him. I hated him for other reasons…for wasting my time, and energies. I hated him for drawing me away from the greatest man I had ever known – I hated him because he wasn't Severus.

But I will not blame James…it was my fault. Severus had needed me. _I_ had let him down. _I_ had betrayed him; my one, true friend.

More tears rolled down my cheek, onto my pillows – a damp patch beneath my head.

Finally, I had shelved my pride and admitted it. It was my fault. Everything.

So I had written him a letter – long, explanatory and _awful_. Something ridiculously sentimental and awkward; he would have hated that letter with a passion. I burnt it and, instead, sent a note by owl:

_Severus,_

_Please meet me at the park at sunset, ---day. _

_I miss you,_

_Lily_

The park…our childhood haunt. I hoped he remembered what happy hours we'd spent there…playing had, chatting about magic, famous wizards and dark tales of old…

I wondered if he remembered as clearly as I did the way he held me when my parents had a row…and how he had said, so gently, "At least they make up in the end." His arms were around me, his face against my hair…we were fourteen…and I asked him to promise me we'd be friends forever.

Had he really agreed to meet me? Maybe it had been a dream…a very convincing dream…the note he sent back was scrunched up in my hand.

_Yes_

He didn't show up. How could I blame him…? A year with no contact and then, suddenly, the girl who had taken advantage of you for years wanted to meet up again…of course he didn't come. What hurt – what really hurt – was that I had a piece of paper with his quick, close script…his handwriting was nearly always unintelligible…with confirmation.

Had he changed into some sort of sadist? It was sadistic to do this to me…to build my hopes up and send them crashing down like this…

I was thinking of stupid things at that moment…of sharp object against my skin, a release…no one was home – Petunia had another date with her oafish boyfriend (Vernon something) and would probably spend the night at his place. My parents were on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Paris to ignite their ailing love life (my dad would probably find the only English café in miles and smoke there whilst my mother went shopping for expensive perfume and lingerie she would never wear).

I was alone…I could…get a release…it would only be once…and then maybe again, just so I wouldn't forget…

I heard a knock from downstairs on the front-door.

Three solid knocks.

I wiped my face a little; so Petunia had come back early. Figures.

I walked downstairs and called out that I was coming; I was slightly horrified about how my voice sounded – bunged-up and weepy…I made one last ditch attempt to wipe my eyes and quickly looked in the hall mirror…I looked awful.

There was another knock.

"I'm coming – God, why do you always forget your keys…" I sighed as I slammed the door open; a strong gust of cold wind blew against my face.

Petunia pushed passed me without so much as a hello. Her thin, somewhat horsey face was screwed up with annoyance.

"I forgot my purse! Vernon is waiting for me outside…its not like I could let him in with the house such a _mess_," she said hurriedly, running to the living room, procuring a rather disgusting coloured purse (salmon-pink leather, anyone?). "I'm not coming back tonight – Vernon is taking me line-dancing."

"I'm sure he is," I said as she ran back out. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as the rather broad looking Vernon received Petunia; with a rather pompous grin, admittedly, but still…something about the way he looked at her reminded me how alone I felt…how alone I was.

I shuffled into the living room and decided to light a fire…the flames almost always calmed me down.

I'd begun lighting the fire when another knock sounded.

"What _now_?" My eyes fell on the salmon-pink shawl half-hidden behind a white cushion on the sofa…Petunia must be in love if she was becoming so distracted. I sighed and picked the shawl up.

Another knock.

"Alright! I can't fly, you know! Take your bloody keys next…" But as I opened the door I realised it wasn't Petunia.

"Hello, Lily," A small, almost sarcastic smile. I stepped back; he looked…different somehow and yet…reassuringly the same; those high cheekbones, his somewhat uneven, sharp teeth, his paleness, emphasised by his long, dark hair…and those intensely dark, obsidian eyes...the kind of eyes that penetrated through a person. I'd forgotten that look; the way Dumbledore made you feel x-rayed, Severus made you feel…undressed.

"I'm guessing Petunia is still making you open the door for her every time she goes out; perhaps it makes her feel more important," He mused after an awkward pause. I stared at him.

"You told me that once before…"

"Boring when things get repetitive…" He smiled again, that special crooked smile, "Which is why I'm very sad to ask if I can come in – I know you hate cliché."

I nodded and tried to order my thoughts…none of it made sense.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out. He stepped in, shut the door behind him and removed his long, black cloak.

"Didn't you send me that note?"

"My house isn't the park…I waited for hours…" I felt so ashamed to have to admit this.

"I was at the park," he watched me closely.

"No, you weren't!"

"I was. I don't lie, as you should well know," there was something icy in his voice. He paused, "However, I did not appear before you. I was up on that old tree watching."

"Watching?" He nodded slowly.

"Watching you."

I was stunned by such a bare-faced admittance.

"Why didn't you…come out? Meet me? Why did you just watch me _crying_!?" I demanded as my face grew hotter…embarrassed was an understatement.

"You're interesting to watch." He said simply.

"But…it makes no sense…I was…crying." He looked somewhat pained. It took a moment for him to reply.

"It was important for me to…to wait. To watch. To think. I needed to know if I could…come here and move forwards, not in reverse."

"You're still not making any sense."

"You used to complain about that on a daily basis."

He seemed so sincere and so much like the Severus I once knew…I acted on impulse and stepped towards him; I wrapped my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest.

"I missed you," I whispered. "I missed you so much."

He stiffened…then relaxed. I felt his arms wrap around me and we stood like this for what felt like a long time. He was cold to touch from being outside – I felt his cool hands move up and down my back soothingly.

"Why are you holding that pink thing?" He broke away first and I took his hand and pulled him to the living room – his hand felt different to the last time I'd touched it…rougher, somehow. I led him to the couch before the empty fire place.

"Tea or coffee?"

"Neither, Lily." He suddenly seemed serious, "I have to go soon."

"Go…? But you've just arrived!" I couldn't keep the desperation out of my voice.

"Yes…but it wouldn't be…._prudent_ to stay too long in the house of a…well, a taken woman." He said this coolly, looking towards the window.

"You were always so proper, Sev," I smiled and sat next to him, "But I'm not… 'taken'?"

"You're not going to spout some kick-ass feminist arguments are you?"

"Did you just say…'ass'?"

"I believe I did," he said in a mock-surprised tone that irritated me about as much as it endeared me.

"And if I said I wasn't taken in any sense of the word what would you say?" I said gently; his reaction satisfied me – he seemed taken-aback. He quickly regained his composure.

"I'd reply that some coffee would be nice."

"Black no sugar?" I shot to the kitchen and, whilst the kettle boiled, I tried, in vain to calm my fluttering heart. He had returned…the one man I knew better than any, and yet not at all…complex, meaningful, thoughtful…deep, passionate…completely infuriating…beguiling…_worthy_…

It struck me strange that I should think all this after so many years…his friendship…it had meant something more than any other…and today, when he hadn't shown up…I had felt beyond grief, beyond depression…

What was this I was feeling? I trembled so much that the mug I was holding slipped through my fingers and crashed to the floor; Severus ran into the room.

"What happened?" He looked at me, at the mug and shook his head muttering, "Clumsy." He started over but I bent low and began picking the pieces up…

"Ow," a piece cut me – blood dripped to the floor. I felt shaky…I felt him near and knew he must be thinking how inadequate I was, in every possible way.

"You are a witch, Lily," He had a smile in his voice, "Just to remind you."

"I'm not allowed to use magic here." I said, looking down so he couldn't see the expression on my face. After a pause:

"Then it's lucky I'm here," he bent low, next to me, and tapped his wand on the pieces – it was a mug once more. He reached out and took my hand, "look at you blood…it looks almost beautiful, doesn't it…the white of the floor, the red of the blood…quite beautiful…" He looked at me seriously and then laughed at my face.

"You've always had a weird sense of humour," I mused. He healed my hand, but didn't let go.

"You have scars…" he said. I quickly snatched my hand away and rolled my sleeve down as far as it would go.

"Everyone – has – scars," I got up and continued making his coffee. I could feel him watching me. He remained silent as I prepared the coffee pot and some nice biscuits we reserved for special guests. I carried all this on a tray to the living room.

The room had changed perceptibly; the fire was roaring merrily – I looked at Severus suspiciously.

"I know," He said wondrously, "It must be magic."

I laughed and we kept the conversation light as he sat down on the couch and I sat at his feet – old memories…our childhood, Hogwarts (with little snippets carefully omitted)…we reached a comfortable silence. I took this moment to admire the man before me.

His brooding eyes were staring into the fire – they really were black, not dark brown…how could that be? And why…why did they change from one expression to the next like that…at times almost anguished…then peaceful…then frustrated and then suddenly joy-filled…and then pained once more. His fine, black hair was better cared for than I last remembered…but he was still as thin as ever. He wasn't handsome, he never had been…he was interesting.

"You know, Lily," He said suddenly, still looking at the fire, "sometimes I remember what you told me…and I can't help but feel you were right."

"I said a lot of things…"

"It was something about jealousy. You said something like…something like I was jealous of James and you…"

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, "I was being…"

"No, no – you misunderstand," He looked at me and I was silenced by his gentle smile. "I _was_ jealous. You were right. I was completely and utterly jealous and, if given the opportunity, I would have stabbed James at least a few hundred times for taking you away…"

"Oh, Sev – he never took me away," I felt touched (in an odd way) for him adding the stabbing bit. I bit my lip and looked at my feet. "It was me. It was my fault…I should have given you more attention…I neglected you…I neglected us."

"I was jealous," He ignored what I said – he was still staring at me with an intensity that made me blush, "I was so, so very jealous and it took me a while to work out why…do you know why, Lily?"

"No," I realised we were whispering, our faces so close I could count every one of his eyelashes…I had always loved his eyelashes. Long, dark, defined.

"Because every time I saw him kiss these lips," He brought his index finger across my lips – I parted them willingly, "every time I saw him press his face here," he placed his hand on the nape of my neck and I stopped breathing, "and here…" his hand brushed across my exposed collarbone, "I couldn't help but think…that you were mine."

The possessiveness in his tone sent thrills through me that I just couldn't deny…I didn't move for fear of breaking eye contact.

"And for months I couldn't accept it…I struggled…with myself. Such conflict I hope you will never know, Lily," He looked away and, regrettably, let go of me. "I had never felt so desperate…and yet so lost…and so, every time I dreamt of you, I'd force myself to imagine you and _him_ together. It repulsed me…but it was the only way…I imagined you with him here, in this very room. Together. And you would put Chopin on (Nocturns, to be precise). He would trail his fingers across you and you would respond, respond to even the lightest touch…"

I knew this was somehow _wrong_ to listen to…but who was I to deny an insight into the workings of Severus Snape's mind?

He described the shapes our bodies would make…the sounds – the moans – the softness of my skin…every now and then he'd touch my face, my hands, my arms, showing the exact spot James would plant a kiss – lick – _bite_. I felt something stir deep inside me.

"Aren't you curious?" I asked breathlessly, when he had paused.

"About…?"

"About…doing those things…with me." I felt my face turn scarlet, but kept my eyes on his face. He smiled almost bemusedly.

"I don't think curious is quite the word," He replied. I noticed he hadn't drunk his coffee. I quickly jumped up and ran upstairs, retrieving an old CD of Chopin and some sheets from my bed.

He watched me silently as I shoved the tray to one side and lay the sheets down on the floor before the fireplace. I placed the CD in the player in the corner of the room. I stood before him, holding his eyes with mine…I slowly removed my sweater…

"Stop," Severus said – I looked at him but continued removing my trousers – his expression was enigmatic. "Lily – I told you to stop," He said gently.

"Why?"

"Because…I don't want to be like James," He looked down, "I don't want to…take you, as I imagined. I want to…_court_ you." I couldn't help but laugh at this.

"Only you would use a word like that," there I was, in my underwear and he wanted to court me? I felt embarrassed for being so forward.

"Would you rather it any different?"

"I want you to…" this was harder than I'd imagined, "I want you to kiss me."

I was so scared he'd ignore me – or worst laugh at me - I didn't even notice him rise from the sofa and stand close to me until I turned to face him. He tilted my face up and slowly – agonisingly slowly – he pressed his lips onto mine…I sighed inwardly and returned his kiss insistently. I brought my arms around his neck and slowly we descended until we were on our knees.

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A/N: Should I continue from here…? What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

After the initial kiss a flick seemed to switch behind his eyes.

At first the kisses were small, soft, cool against my skin; my jaw, my cheek, my eyelids all explored, relished, but never, never close to my mouth. He leant on his elbows, his body pressing me deeper into the floor, an almost experimental air as he caressed my skin – it was coy, it was teasing. I was not amused.

I could see it in his eye as he leant back and observed; a glint of fun, of humor. He could see how restless I was for something more, something deeper – I fidgeted, moved my legs about beneath him, grazed my fingernails under his shirt, along his back. Nothing moved him – he seemed more and more amused as the minutes past – his kisses became crueler, sharper, shorter.

"For Gods sake, Severus!" I shoved his shoulders and glared, fuming. "You're doing this just to annoy me!" I was sure he felt the impatience radiating off me; he could certainly see my blush, a red heads worst nightmare.

"And?" He said, swooping low, kissing the hollow of my neck; I presume to hide his expression.

"Bloody hell, it's…it's frustrating!" I pouted, frowning. He pulled back suddenly.

"Then…tell me – exactly - what you want," With every syllable his eyes darkened.

A small silence formed between us; his eyes never left mine and I could see that there would always be something that ruled Severus, above his capacity for passion, for love: his pride. His much maligned, injured pride.

I felt my features soften. I brought my hand to his face and softly smoothed his eyebrows out of their frown, and touched his mouth, his eyelids, watching the tension gently ease away.

You see, I understood. There was so much I didn't understand about him that it felt calming, satisfying that I understood this one, small part.

"Severus…this past year, have you…did you go out with anyone?" I asked as gently as I could.

He released a sigh and fell to one side, resting his head on my shoulder, one arm carelessly thrown across me. His hair felt strange against my exposed skin…I kissed the top of his head; a silence precipitated and I felt a blush creep over me once more. Maybe I'd embarrassed him, or (worst) gotten it wrong.

"It's funny," He said suddenly, his voice vibrating against my chest. "I used to think myself so superior to you, especially after we stopped…communicating. I tried to fool myself; you were the dim one, bluffing your affections for that indelicate ape - for, what? Social acceptance? Some gruesome fascination? Hormones? God knows…and I…I was the intelligent one, lucky to get away…" He stopped, waiting for an interruption. I remained silent. I felt the weight of his words…it came from a deep point within him and I knew the rarity of the occasion warranted at least the respect of silence. He sat up and I followed suit, gently covering us with the sheet. I looked at him, but his eyes were watching the fire, intense and melancholic. He continued, "Of course, I was the one bluffing. I pretended I felt nothing for you, scorned the very beating of my heart which beats for you and only for you," He picked up my hand and placed it the palm flat against his chest. He closed his eyes. It was beating much faster than I expected, betraying the true emotions behind the soft, tranquil voice. "You ask me if I've been seeing anyone since that time as if it's a simple matter. In my own mind I've seen no one but you. Spoken to no one but you, even if it were only our spirits communicating across continents, only the faintest echo of your voice, your touch in a dream…" He suddenly looked away, throwing my hand aside, as if physically pained. "To have you, like this, is almost too much…and when I lose you, again…that despair will be intolerable. That's why I can say, without shame, when I looked down at you today, high up in that tree, and saw you crying, crying bitterly…I felt a certain amount of satisfaction. Perhaps at the second you knew a hundredth of the pain I felt…a hundredth?" A grim smile touched his lips. "Quantifying pain…it devalues it, doesn't it?"

"But don't you see that proves it?" I couldn't bare the sadness in his face. I grabbed his shoulders and made him look at me, "You'll never lose me! I'll never lose you…we don't have to…be alone, anymore. I love you…" He pushed me away and looked at the floor as if it contained an answer.

"Listen, Lily," his voice was flat, "I did see someone. Does that change anything?"

"No…it depends…who was it?"

"You remember Narcissus I presume?" I felt like an ice cube had slipped down my throat.

"Yes…"

"She was…comforting. She said the things I wanted to hear…you know the kind of thing -"

"No - enlighten me." He paused, refusing to look at me.

"Unoriginal slander, mostly. Potter was this, that and the other…that I was silly for pining after someone like you anyway…that sort of thing."

"I see…" I didn't understand how this made me feel. I realised that this was jealousy bubbling deep inside me. Was this what Severus had to endure every time he saw James and I together? It had to be worst, a million times worst…only imagining him with someone like Narcissus made me seethe. He had to watch us, every day…I shivered slightly. "So…what happened between you then?" He smiled coldly.

"She began treading sensitive ground…she began insulting you. At first it didn't bother me, much. Just aggressive, empty words. Then she began forming plans; revenge. She has interesting knowledge – obviously, no where near as impressive as yours," he glanced at me coolly, "but her partiality for revenge against you – I understood she had been communicating with a character called Voldemort, who had some ingenious ways to wreak misery…I hated her instantly, if I didn't hate her before. This was all six months ago – I roamed, hoping she would not follow me or, worst, find you. But I received a letter from an associate indicating she has found her soulmate in Malfoy of all people, and so that was that…"

He still wouldn't look at me. I remained silent, completely at a loss how to solve it all. The complexity of the issue, the knottiness of his emotions and the experiences I would probably never be able to pry into – warring, unidentifiable emotions crowded about me. I blinked. It was simple:

"How does this effect how you feel about me?" I whispered. Unexpectedly, he laughed.

"It doesn't, really. But I assumed it would effect how you felt about me. After all, I should have just come back…I should have just cast the Imperious Curse on you and forced you to be my sex slave," finally, the intensity of his eye seemed to diminish. "Or, perhaps got Potter to make some advances on Sirius – knowing him, he'd love that. The possibilities would have been endless…"

"Severus," I pouted, shoving him lightly. He smiled at me and we both relaxed a little. The air seemed to clear; we had needed to talk. But I didn't want to drop this – this honesty. Not yet. "You know, now that we're on the subject – I might as well tell you, even if you'd been with a thousand women I would still want you…"

"Even if they were all psycho-killer-bitches who wanted your blood?"

"Even," I nodded fervently. "Actually, especially if they were all psycho-killer-bitches who wanted my blood. It shows taste." He gave me a funny look.

"I don't think I could bare it to think of you going out with a thousand James Potters."

"All at once or one at a time?" He smiled and looked back at the fire. Suddenly his face grew grave once more.

"Promise me," He said suddenly, "Promise me that I don't have to go through it all again." It ached to hear his voice like this. Was he so vulnerable? This human being before me, all flashing eyes and sarcastic flint? He looked at me for a reply, tense.

I gently leant forwards and wrapped my arms around his neck. He possessively crushed me to him and whispered, "Tell me you'd rather die than be parted from me." I didn't need to; he knew. I hugged him tightly back and hid my face in his hair, hoping that all the pain I'd caused would be assuaged even the slightest bit…

I relaxed in his arms and gently played with his shirt collar. I smiled, an idea forming in my mind.

"Lie down, Severus," I said, gently, coaxing. He pulled away and gave me a suspicious look. "Seriously, Severus, who do you think I am? A masquerading Polyjuice Potion addict?"

"No, I've been with you over an hour and so far you haven't morphed into Sirius Black or any other besotted admirer," He said dryly.

"Had a thing for him did you?" The corners of his mouth twitched, "Listen, just lie down on your stomach – I'll be right with you." With a quizzical look he obeyed. "Oh, and take off your shirt." He gave me another distrustful look, "Don't worry I don't want to shag your brains out quite yet," He laughed quietly and I quickly hopped up and fetched an aromatic oil from the kitchen.

"You're not planning to tell me what you're about to do are you…?" He said as I leapt beside him once more.

"Nope," I straddled his back and he nearly jumped.

"What are you…ahhh…" I quickly set to work. I rubbed his back wholly then began massaged the space between his spine and shoulder blades. I felt him melt beneath me. "Where did you learn how to do this…?"

"One of those crazy, useless Muggle things that Wizards are luckily missing out on," I said cheerily. "It's called 'massage'…"

"I know it – it's just...ah, God…" I felt a particularly sore spot with my fingers, "…who told you how to…?"

"My dad always used to come home stressed out. Have you never had a back rub?"

"What do you think?" He mumbled. I smiled and slowly, but firmly kneaded and pushed into his back. He still looked too thin, but he seemed hardier, more resilient, than I remembered. I wanted to ask him where he'd gotten this long scar, almost completely healed, that lay dark against the paleness of his skin. I wanted to ask him why his hands were rougher, his arms full of faded scratches…I relished the idea that there was time, glorious long hours in which we could spend talking about anything we wanted, or to say nothing at all.

"It feels so…" He sighed into the covers. His eyes were shut and his breathing was even, soft.

He was falling asleep.

I'll admit the sadist in me wanted to poke him and tell him we still had some unfinished business. His peaceful face made my heart ache…

"Severus?" I said softly. No response. I gently got up and covered him, an odd mothering sensation running through me.

I quietly redressed and I lay next to him. I kissed his head and closed my eyes, placing my palm against his back, feeling it rise and fall.

So this was happiness…

I opened my eyes and found his staring back into mine. I realised what had made me wake up – someone was knocking at the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"Lily!" A voice called from outside.

I felt my eyes widen.

"It's James…" I whispered, staring at Severus' enigmatic expression.

We were still lying on the floor, in the darkness as the fire had gone out; the street lights from outside cast strange shapes about the walls. Anxiety tightened my chest - what could James want? What would he do? Should I open the door, or ignore him (he'd leave eventually, right)? Wasn't it a bit of a coincidence he should come _tonight_ of all nights? Severus seemed to absorb all my emotions in a single, cool glance…

He smiled.

It was a testament to Severus' complete unpredictability that I did not even consider him acting as he did next; after a pause, in which he seemed to examine every feature of my face (his eyes trailing from my eyes, to my cheek, to my mouth) he grabbed my shoulders and began kissing me so hotly it hurt.

I brought my hands to his bare chest and attempted futilely to push him away – he would not relent! His fingers tightened painfully around my arms…

I felt ashamed; the part of me that wanted him to stop seemed inextricably linked with the pleasure that burned my lips - my mind was on fire, aware of every point of contact - his legs rendered my own immobile, even his hands branding my arms harshly…never had pain and pleasure seemed so confused to me. I realised that from an outsiders perspective this could be considered an abuse – thankfully, no one could see the inner workings of my mind. Excitement filled me at the thought that James (who had never even dared take my hand without politely, distantly asking my permission) stood only a few metres away as Severus kissed (what a paltry word to describe this force!) me until I couldn't breathe.

He wrapped me closer, pressing me against his hard, thin body, crushing me into him. His lips were hard, soft, all at once, insistent…again, the pain just made me want him more…dizzyingly wanting, fervently kissing him back and struggling for breath, I grazed his back with my fingernails, holding him tightly, madly, wanting it never to end…

Suddenly he let go, shoved me away almost as cruelly as he had crushed me.

"You better open the door," He said after catching his breath.

"W-what?"

"LILY! I know you're in there! Open the door!" Bang, bang, bang.

I stared at Severus in the darkness, struggling with all the conflicting emotions that seemed to come with being with him.

"Open the door…unless you're ashamed, of course," He said, staring up at the ceiling. I pressed my lips together. The back of his hand rested on his forehead and he stared upwards, as if completely unaware of his surrounds.

"You know that's not the reason," I whispered. He turned to look at me with expressionless eyes.

"LILY!" Bang, bang, bang.

I attempted to quickly smooth my hair and clothes, tripping over the sheets gracelessly as I made my way to the front door. As I left the living room I turned to glance at Severus – he lay quite still, staring at the ceiling absently. I wondered whether he'd make a scene…whether James and he would fight it out.

My heart beat uncomfortably fast as I placed my hand on the door handle. I breathed in deeply and opened it.

"Lily! My God, what the hell took you so long? I thought there was something up…" James stepped forward, looking travel-worn, unsmiling.

"Why? How did you even know I was in…?" I blinked and then asked the most burning question, "What are you _doing_ here?" James ignored the incivility.

"Can I come in?" He said. "We have so much to talk about…" He attempted to sidle by me.

"Hang on," I put my hand on his chest, stopping him. I tired not to let my panic show, "Um…really, what are you doing here?"

For a vague moment he seemed rather uncomfortable. He tried to smile.

"Well…now, you must promise to not get upset, Lily, but…um…"

"What?"

"Well, first, are you alone?" Could he see my blush? My lips were surely reddened, bruised…surely, my supposed crime was written all over my face: guilty…

"That's really none of your concern…"

"Lily."

"James." A staring match. He won. I sighed, "No, I'm not."

"Right, exactly – and this person…is it…a…man?"

"What are you getting at, James?" He suddenly seemed angered. He firmly pushed me aside and walked into the sitting room; it seemed incredible that we had once snogged in that very room, sharing silly platitudes of teenage infatuation in whispers, jumping apart whenever my mother or father 'accidently' walked in.

I sighed, waiting for his discovery of my new lover…I felt a blush steal over me. That's what he was, wasn't it…? My _lover_. Not my boyfriend, or partner or anything so defined…he wanted to _court_ me. I cherished that thought desperately, waiting for all hell to break loose.

To my surprise no noises came from the sitting room. I shot after James and found him standing by the settee looking rather sheepish – alone.

Gone were the sheets, the bedraggled clothes, the CD player and massage oil…and Severus. I tried hard to hide my surprise.

"You said you weren't alone?" I opened my mouth to reply, but…

"She's not." We both looked at the kitchen doorway simultaneously. Severus, fully dressed and smiling smugly, held two steaming mugs. James' wand out was so fast I blinked and it was pointing, sparking slightly, betraying his emotional state.

I looked at Severus and James, the two opposite men that had been involved in my life; a cathartic moment allowed me to think it was strange that such opposites, such polar opposites could excite similar feelings…but they weren't similar feelings. I could see, so clearly, then, with a stunned James and a composed Severus before me. How could such meaningless lust, from this pandering arrogant puppy, equate to the soft, keen yearning and passion I felt with this dark interloper, here…?

In a completely relaxed manner he approached me and handed me the mug – tea.

"Lily…Snape…" James was clearly stunned. I noted the look of satisfaction on Severus' face. James blinked at the composed man before him, who took a sip out of his own tea and nodded, an evil smile breaking through the composure.

"Potter. To what do we owe this pleasure?" He sat on the sofa and looked inquiringly at him – I suddenly understood. James, seeing all this, would assume we had never really lost contact and had been together much longer than only the four hours of our reunion. James lowered his wand.

And was I annoyed? I must admit the deception part I wasn't too keen on, but I couldn't help but admire Severus' nerve…which is why, rather bemusedly, I sat next to him and allowed him to stretch his arm over my shoulders as he lay his right ankle on his left knee and took a sip of his tea, attempting to hide his devious grin.

"Lily…I…he…" James stood, opened mouthed.

"By the way, should you or I tell Lily," He glanced at me, "how you knew I was here?" James blushed deeply, shutting his mouth. "I mean, I presume that's why you're here…to save my – I mean – to save Lily from my clutches."

"Lily – you…and…_him_?" James looked at me, still in shock, but the beginning of anger burning his ears bright red. I breathed in deeply, feeling indignation prick my soul. I frowned, slowly, firmly, sitting deeper in the sofa, curling against Severus, who brought his arm around my shoulder tighter. "_You_ and _Severus Snape_?"

"Your point being…?" I asked softly, irritated by his incredulity.

"Bloody hell…bloody hell…" He swiped a hand over his face, "And I…I came here to save you…and you're…you…_you're_ fraternising with _him_…willingly!" He began pacing before us. Severus took another sip from his mug, quite clearly amused.

"Sev, how did he know you were here?" I asked quietly, turning to watch him. He looked at me, then back at James – his hand absently played with a curl of my hair.

"Detectors. The second I entered the house dear, concerned Potter would have been alerted of my deadly presence…but, tell me, why didn't you apparate straight away? You were much longer than I expected." He directed this question to James, who was pacing about, glaring every now and then at us with flashing eyes.

"What do you care? I got held up…I wish I never came! For God's sake…and you!" He pointed at me vehemently, "YOU! Didn't you promise to wait!? After a few months you said – you needed a break!" He laughed coldly. "Some _break_!" I ignored him, knowing he was being unreasonable – after all, he was the one who had wanted the 'break' long before me. Instead I turned to Severus, annoyed.

"Detectors? But…" I pushed Severus' arm away, "You _knew_ I was being…monitored and did nothing about it?" Incensed, I rose and, again, watched these two people, who were both staring at me with very different expressions. "I'm not some game," I glanced at Severus, "Or a piece of property," I looked at James, "Both of you…get out."

I was satisfied with Severus' face; all smugness erased, all colour drained. James stood very still and then, quite suddenly he lunged at me.

I wasn't at all scared; something about this act of violence seemed funny to me. His hand was around my throat but I couldn't help but laugh – it was all so ridiculous, so melodramatic.

But Severus…his face, a flash of fury and rage – that scared me. My eyes widened as I saw his wand.

"NO! Please, Sev, no..!" But it was too late. A flash of red light and James was on the floor.

"He wasn't hurting me!" I felt the need to say as Severus approached him, his wand still out. I held him back with one hand, rubbing my throat with the other.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't finish him off right now," He said quietly breathing deeply. "One good reason why I shouldn't kill this…scum."

"Because...because I will never see you again if you do." He didn't move, his expression hidden to me behind his hair.

"You told me to leave anyway," He said, still monotone.

"I – I was angry. Lets just let him go so we can be – alone, okay?" I said, too frightened to make a more convincing argument. From his voice, and just his voice, I could tell he was very serious about murdering this irritating but innocent man. It was a chilling moment…I had always been aware of Severus' power; he was often quite vindictive, even to me, yet sometimes something much steelier, sharper and shocking broke through that vague air of cynicism. He could kill. I was aware of this.

He said nothing, turning away towards the window. His wand was still in hand.

"Thank you," I said quietly. But I also had a power…he would listen to me. I breathed in deeply, relieved.

Gently I leant next to James and took my wand out (always tucked in my sock, just in case); I took James' wand, which was still griped loosely in his hand. I broke the house rule and used magic to un-stupify James, who blinked blearily. His eyes widened and shot a look at Severus. He looked about for his wand.

"Go, now." I told him softly; I held his wand out.

"I can't…" He stared at me, attempting a look of depth I guess, "I can't leave you alone with him. He's mad. He's dangerous. He's evil." He got up unsteadily. I handed him his wand.

"I…I know," I closed my eyes, trying to think, "But…I love him." I glanced at Severus and saw his back stiffen. "Mad, dangerous, maybe, but not evil…I trust him completely."

"You're making a big mistake," He said. I suddenly felt very tired.

"Just go, James…"

"No, listen," He looked at me, in earnest, suddenly grabbing my arms, "This is a mistake. He's evil – he has connections with the Death Eaters and you…We belong together. Surely you see that?" His hazel eyes had never been so dull, so devoid of feeling and colour.

And James…are you so good? What is pure goodness, pure evil? Could such a battle commence when the definitions are such a shade of grey? I wanted to say something profound like that, but articulacy was never my strong point. I just slowly, gently, pried his hands off my arms with my fingers and walked over to Severus. He did not turn to look at me.

"You're choosing him…over me?" James' voice was both incredulous and enraged.

"Yes…I'm making the right choice this time." My back was to James, but I could feel his hatred, his rage from where I stood. To my surprise I heard his footsteps towards the door.

"I don't know how you can stand it, Snape," he said suddenly, "being with a woman who loved me first, who will _always_ love me, cherish me as her _first_. You're just the rebound…and tell me, what will you do when she comes running back to me the second you return to your _leader_?"

I tensed, waiting for Severus to retaliate, but he didn't even move or say a thing; he continued staring out of the window as if nothing was being said.

"Lily, one last chance," James said viciously. "Come with you – I will forgive you. Just come now and we can…we can talk. Start again." I closed me eyes. I did not move.

"Wait until Dumbledore finds out!" He let a frustrated cry and I heard him storm out, slamming the door behind him.

After a moment he turned to face me, his face blank, his eyes flat. I stepped forward to wrap my arms around him. To my relief he held me, tightly. I hid my face in his chest and breathed in.

"Did you mean what you said…?" He whispered.

"Which bit?"

"That you…loved me?" I felt a blush steal over me.

"Is that…okay?" Another long pause.

"Hmmm…I'll have to see," He said, with a smile in his voice.

"You pick really awful times to joke, you know?" My voice was muffled in his shirt.

"Well, you pick really awful boyfriends."  
"You're right. I win." He chuckled, his chest shaking a little. "Sev…"

"Hm?"

"Who is your 'leader'?" He said nothing for a moment.

"You are my leader, my angel, the love of my life…if you ordered me off a cliff I'd go, if only you'd come with me…"  
"Oh, be serious," I shoved him a little, but was careful for him not to let go. I felt safe in his arms, especially after having James so near, so suddenly. As if sensing this he held a little tighter.

"I suppose he meant Voldemort…" He said thoughtfully. I waited for more, but he was silent.

"And is he…? Your leader, I mean?" A hesitant pause.

"I have had contact with him," still that thoughtful voice, "But he is not my 'leader'…" His tone of voice seemed to suggest something else, something hidden. "I have no obligations to him."

"Oh…" I closed my eyes. I wanted to forget, to escape…I didn't need to think about Severus's capacity to kill, or Voldemort, or what Dumbledore would think or conspiracy or James…I just wanted to be held, to feel his strong arms protectively tightening, to feel loved, cared for…  
"And…Potter…"

"What about him?"

"Do you still – _feel_ - something for him?"

"Yes. I've always felt he could be an idiot and now I know it for a fact," I said dully, snuggling deeper in his chest.

"Be serious, Lily," He said sternly.

"I am being serious!"

"Look…if something happened…if something went wrong…would you run back to him? Would you go back to him?" The pain in his voice struck me.

"Nothing will happen – nothing will go wrong," I said quietly, drawing myself away from him only to take his face in my hands. His eyes had never looked so vulnerable, so filled with pain and depth. I kissed him softly, softly, our eyes still open, staring…

It was the most intimate feeling I had ever experienced. To kiss with eyes open wide, was quite the closest you'd ever get to anyone…I knew he felt it to.

I let go first and wrapped my arms around him once more, missing the protected feeling it gave to be held so closely.

I can't tell you how long we stood like this, in the darkness, holding each other. He lowered his head to rest on mine and whispered soft things…gentle things, words which seemed right to say just at that moment. I smiled. Seeing James so suddenly like that had really effected me in some untold way, in an unexpected way…it was just what I needed, this intimacy. Because a part of me knew James would somehow come back – that somehow such happiness _couldn't_ last. And so I listened to his voice, drank his scent, held him so tightly, for so long, my arms ached…

"Lily, we should go."

"Go? Where?" I sighed, "Why…?"

"This place is filled with detectors and it wouldn't surprise me if there were some spying equipment lurking somewhere…" We didn't move.

"How did you know about all that?"

"A few simple spells before I entered. I assumed you knew about them, because I wasn't aware you were no longer…you weren't…you know, with _him_ anymore. I thought you wanted to be looked at and monitored…"

"Because that's every girls dream." He ignored me

"…The events after I had entered…" I remembered his kisses and blushed, "made me quite forget." He said this last bit a little too innocently.

"Liar. You _wanted_ him to come and find you."

"Lily, dear, can we argue later," He drew away gently; I saw his mouth twitching. I pouted.

"Fine."

"So, can I take you _anywhere_? Petunia isn't coming back is she…? And your mother and father?" He glanced at the mantelpiece clock; it was one in the morning. Him talking about my parents and sister brought a little normalcy to the situation. I smiled, thinking how bizarre the events had been…a dream, really.

Suddenly he smiled and swooped down to kiss me, softly.

"You're mine," He said, and that smile, the possessiveness even, made my heart ache. "I can take you anywhere…and you'd come willingly. You have no idea how wonderful that is to feel." He took my hand, "Close your eyes."

Crack – a tugging feeling at my navel…

I opened my eyes, my hand still in his, and looked around…

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A/N: I'm surprised no one notices (which I've just noticed) how I see Severus as a kind of modern-day Mr Rochester (of Jane Eyre)…I guess I just see the Byronic element to them both. On another note, why is no one reviewing? *pouts* If it wasn't for the one, lovely reviewer of the last chapter I wouldn't have bothered to post this…please review so I know that someone is actually reading this!


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